


Collision

by rabidfan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidfan/pseuds/rabidfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, you have to accept that we were unaware you were a Sentinel until your blood work came back.  We had no idea if you had just come on line or were just adept at hiding.  Forgive us for not wanting a feral Sentinel splashing blood and gore all over our nice, tidy infirmary.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collision

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: While looking for my inspiration for this challenge I found this totally awesome piece of artwork by Velocitygrass, which she titled “Collide”. It’s sort of VegasVerse and I had to claim it. Had to. Not kidding. And Esteefee wrote a Sheppard-as-Sentinel story (Foothold. Go! Read! Fabulous story.) and it ate my brain. No, really. It did. I’ve never seen The Sentinel. Now? I’m writing Sentinel fic. ::headslap:: Also? I think the Sheppard in Vegas was totally drinking to hide his Sentinel abilities. ::nods:: What? It could be true! Then, see, I read a story a long time ago (I’m sorry! I don’t remember details of who and where and what! So…google it!) where ATA carriers are slaves to their SGA overlords. Or something. So you can see why this was an absolute necessity. Right? You can see that. So. Now we’re all up to speed? Splendid!
> 
> Thanks as always goes to Lex. She is a beta without peer!

~*~

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Dr. Keller jumped back from her unconscious patient. “Airman, get some restraints on this man!”

“What is it, Jennifer?” Dr. Beckett looked up from the chart he’d been analyzing. “He can’t hurt you, even if he’d a mind to,” he soothed. “He’s going to be out for a long while yet.”

She waved her blood panel results even as the heavy, padded restraints were efficiently wrapped around her patient’s wrists and ankles. “He’s a Sentinel, Carson.” She nodded as the man paled. “An unchipped Sentinel. How the hell did that happen?”

“A very good question, my dear.” Carson scrubbed a hand over his face. Twenty hours of surgery and now it could all be for nothing. “A good question in deed. I’ll alert General Landry. Perhaps you’ll be good enough to call Dr. McKay?” At her nod he stepped towards the intercom. “He’ll have some explaining to do.”

~*~

“Dr. McKay!” General Landry didn’t appreciate being reduced to shouting in his own office. “I grant that you were unaware of Detective Sheppard’s Sentinel status. It is also apparent that the alternate universe that introduced Colonel Sheppard to us is unaware of the danger associated with an unclaimed Sentinel, so no intel was gathered there.” As his science officer began to calm down he resumed his questions. “What is not clear, Doctor, is how having spent a goodly amount of time in his company, a Guide of your levels and abilities wasn’t able to detect his deception.”

Dr. McKay slumped in his chair. He’d been wondering that himself…wondering and not liking the answers he’d come up with. “Two possible reasons, General. The first, and least likely? He’s damn good at hiding. Good at keeping his senses dialed down to where even I couldn’t feel them spiking. The second, more terrifying possibility is that his trauma brought him on-line; that what we have recovering in our infirmary is a latent, adult-onset Sentinel of unknown power.”

“He could be a time bomb just waiting to go off.”

The general stared in horror at the man before him. “That is an unacceptable risk, Doctor. Terminate him before he regains consciousness.”

“What? No! Have you lost your mind?” Rodney struggled to regain his temper. “Detective Sheppard is our best…no make that our _last_ hope of defeating the Wraith, General. His ATA gene is more powerful than General O’Neill’s. He has an instinctive ability to control what tech he has been exposed to. Even tech we were sure didn’t have any power.” He sighed deeply. “I understand the risks, General. I do. But we need Sheppard in the weapons chair on Atlantis.”

“We need him to stop the Wraith.”

~*~

Rodney sat up, woken from his doze by the increased beeping of the monitors surrounding Sheppard’s bed. He was waking up. He signaled to the SFs and waited while they took their positions at the foot of the bed before putting his hand on Sheppard’s shoulder.

“Detective.” He gently shook the shoulder under his hand, unwilling to jostle him too much. “John. Wake up, you’re safe. We found you and brought you to the SGC. You’re safe. You can open your eyes.”

Sheppard seemed to struggle against his restraints, causing the safeties to clatter off the guns drawn around him. Sheppard’s eyes snapped open at the sound, all senses on line and focused. The surge of power sent his own Guide senses reeling. Rodney let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding when Sheppard remained calm, in control. Huh. Option one. Amazing.

“How the hell did you keep yourself hidden all these years, John?” He managed not to flinch back when that laser-like focus shifted to him. “You do like to be a surprise, don’t you?”

He gestured to the SFs, relegating them to the hall outside. “I meant what I said. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.”

Sheppard thrust his arms up against the restraints holding them to the beds rails in silent rebuttal.

“Well, you have to accept that we were unaware you were a Sentinel until your blood work came back. We had no idea if you had just come on line or were just adept at hiding. Forgive us for not wanting a feral Sentinel splashing blood and gore all over our nice, tidy infirmary.” Rodney rocked back on his heels.

“Did you just growl at me?” Rodney smiled as he went to find Carson. “You did, didn’t you? This is going to be interesting.” It was time to see if his new Sentinel was going to be controllable. He’d have to claim him, of course. It went without saying that an unclaimed, unchipped Sentinel was a danger to everyone.

He looked back at the restrained man glaring at him, sending him a gesture indicating patience. He’d enjoy discovering the levels of ability this new Sentinel had, he was sure. Provided he didn’t kill them all in a feral rage, of course. He’d read the file on him he’d been given. The dishonorable discharge from the Air Force he’d known about, but the educational background had been a surprise. Sheppard was Stanford educated, degrees in mathematics and aeronautical engineering. He’d be useful in the labs if the military monkeys decided he was too big a risk to send back to work. If he was controllable, of course. Rodney had to admit he was attracted to the detective as well. He was hot, no denying. Not a problem. Rodney was made of stern stuff. He could ignore the desire pooling in his gut at the idea of what else he could conceivably take but wouldn’t. Sheppard was as safe in his care as he’d claimed he was.

The power of that focused mind in the weapons chair sent chills down his spine. The Wraith would finally have the fight brought to them. Rodney smiled again. Finally, things were looking up.

Not ten paces out of the infirmary Jennifer Keller caught hold of his sleeve, hauling him around to face her.

“You can’t seriously be considering taking that man back to Atlantis with us!” Rodney looked down at the hand Jennifer had clamped onto his sleeve. He raised his gaze to her face and what she saw there made her pull her hand back and shuffle a step towards the wall. “He’s dangerous, Rodney. You know this.” She threw her hand back towards the infirmary, “He’s not even chipped!”

Rodney looked at the woman he’d loved, married and ultimately separated from as if seeing her for the first time. He started walking again towards the elevators. “He will be.” He’d have to be. Now that his secret was out the only alternative was imprisonment or death.

“What then? He’s still going to be unclaimed. He’s going to go feral…send unbonded Guides into a tailspin for miles around.” Startled, it took several seconds for Jennifer to process what he’d left unsaid. “You?” She grabbed at his sleeve again, “ _You’re_ going to claim him? What, you think the bond is going to make him fall in love with you? That we’re going to form some weird threesome? You, your pet Sentinel and me? I don’t think so!”

Rodney gently removed her hand from his arm, briefly giving a thought to how hot it would be to have the two of them writhing together. He shook himself and focused on Jennifer. He’d known the end of his marriage to her was coming. He’d managed to ignore the signals of its demise for some time now. With Sheppard in the mix he couldn’t ignore it any more.

“No. No threesome.” Rodney felt a pang of regret for the hurt on her face…her acknowledgment that he’d be claiming Sheppard and letting her go. Still, the die was cast. “I trust you can still be professional in your treatment of him?”

“Carson has taken over as his primary. I don’t want to be in the same _room_ with him. But what interactions I do have will be professional.” She sniffed. “I do still have some pride, thanks.” Rodney hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He awkwardly patted her shoulder. “I understand, Jennifer. Please try to understand I’m doing this for the survival of Earth. He can stop the Wraith. I’ve got to do this.” Miserably, she nodded. It made it harder that she _did_ understand. That in a sense Rodney was as much of a victim of his biology as Sheppard was. This time when he started back down the hall Jennifer let him go.

~*~

“He’s alert, well, as alert as is possible with the levels of pain medication he’s currently on, that is. He’s aware of his surroundings and doesn’t seem openly hostile to my staff.” Carson sipped his tepid coffee, “I can’t see any reason to keep him restrained at this time. He’s not feral…not suffering from sensory overload.”

“Thank you, Doctor Beckett. Please report any changes in Detective Sheppard’s condition if and when they should occur.”

“Of course, Mr. Woolsey.” He shifted to his feet and gathered his notes together. “I’ll be in the infirmary should you need me.” With a nod towards General Landry and General O’Neill he left the others to their meeting.

Rodney waited until the door closed after Carson to turn to the others at the table. He steeled himself to what he had to say next. He knew it would make him sound cold, heartless. It was necessary. “I want to claim him,” he declared. “He’s unchipped, which means he’s in violation of a half-dozen laws so we can dispense with his ‘right to choose’ crap.” He thumped his hand down on the medical file in front of him. “His genetics make him vital to the Atlantis mission. Vital to our research and our defense of Earth. Chip him, and let me have him.”

“And how do you think this unchipped, unbonded Sentinel is going to respond to you deciding to make him your bed partner, Dr. McKay? Do you honestly think he’ll just roll over and think of Earth?”

“Let’s not be crude…and thank you for that beautiful image, General O’Neill,” Rodney snapped. “No, I don’t expect he’s going to be happy about any of this. I have no plan to force intimacies on him but he won’t be able to trust that. Do you think he hid what he was for 40 years because he was saving himself until his wedding night?” Morons. He was surrounded by morons. “He will accept his new reality because he has no choice. He’s in control of his abilities…astoundingly so considering he’s been without a Guide…and he’s not suicidal. He wants to live, and he clearly, given his actions in stopping the Wraith, is driven by his Sentinel need to serve and protect.”

Rodney stood and leaned forward to make his point, “He will accept me in whatever capacity I decide is necessary because he cannot fight his biology. When presented with a Guide that wants to bond with him he will bond. Once bonded he will be perfectly willing to sleep with me when I tell him it’s his duty as my Sentinel to do so.”

“Now stop dicking around and give him to me. The sooner he’s on Atlantis the safer the Earth is going to be.”

~*~

“Doctor McKay has requested that you be bonded to him.” John eyed the General standing at the end of his bed. He already _knew_ McKay was jonesing to claim him. He wanted control of his magic gene. It wasn’t personal…and he was totally belting the next person that said that to him.

“I’m leaning towards letting him have you but one of my colleagues seems to think you’ll be more useful locked up in Leavenworth.” A casual shrug showed how little the General…O’Neill according to his name plate…cared one way or the other. “But here’s the thing. You have the Ancient gene; I know Dr. Beckett was up here telling you all about it. Natural gene carriers are rare. One with the strength and control like you? One in ten million. That makes you too valuable to let Colonel Pherson lock you up for failing to register as a Sentinel. Pherson has friends, though. Powerful friends. I’m suggesting you allow McKay to bond with you before those friends can interfere with our plans.” O’Neill pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against.

“Think about it.”

Not an hour later the man with friends was also paying John a visit.

“Sheppard.” The Colonel sneered down at him. “I’m going to have you arrested, tried and sentenced before you make it out of that bed. You’ll never see the light of day again.”

John wished his head were clearer for this confrontation. “Colonel Pherson. How lovely to see you again, sir. How are you?”

“Can it, Sheppard. You were a screw up when you were in my squad and you’ve managed to continue being a screw up. You’re not eeling out of Leavenworth this time."

“Now, sir. You know I’m not required to register as a Sentinel until such time as my abilities manifest. I’m confident there is no proof that happened before I woke up in the infirmary. So, you may have some trouble with the convicting part of your plan. Sir.”

“No one is going to believe you manifested just five days ago, Sheppard. You have too much control for that.” The Colonel leaned down, face-to-face with John. John felt his breath, rank and hot, against his face.

“You should have stayed under the radar, Sheppard. Should have stayed a two-bit cop. Playing the hero some kind of habit? Can’t live without the rush? You’re going to rot in prison, Sheppard. And I’m going to watch it happen.”

Sheppard cocked his head as if considering the colonel’s words. “General O’Neill was by earlier. He said people with this Ancient gene thing are pretty rare. Maybe that’s why I never manifested before. Maybe that’s why I’m not spiking. Maybe your Doctor Beckett could explain it to you. Sir.”

Colonel Pherson jerked back, snarling. “Your attitude is just going to add time to your sentence, Sheppard.” He straightened his jacket, casting a quick look towards the SFs standing just inside the doorway. “We’ll talk again soon, Sheppard. You’re not going anywhere.”

John watched Pherson stomp out of the infirmary. Stranger and stranger. 

~*~

“Pherson, sit down.” General Landry shared an exasperated look with General O’Neill. “You’re making O’Neill nervous. You don’t want to do that, trust me.”

Jack smirked. He had himself under perfect control…but Hank did love to tease. “There’s no evidence that Sheppard was aware of his Sentinel status prior to the events that lead him here.” He held up a hand when Pherson started to complain. “There are no reports from his superiors, no incidences listed, nothing at all to point to a cover up. We simply cannot prove that he has been hiding to avoid the law.” Jack rubbed a hand over his face. He hated the laws that made people like him…people like Sheppard…virtual slaves to the government. “As long as he’s properly chipped before leaving the mountain, he’s clear.”

The Colonel sighed. “I’d like to formally protest his inclusion in the Atlantis mission, sirs. He’s a civilian, now. I know that. But he’s trouble; you can take that to the bank.”

“Suck it up, Colonel,” Landry growled. “The decision has been made. Doctor McKay has applied for permission to claim him. I’m going to grant that request. Detective Sheppard will be traveling with you and your reinforcements to Atlantis when the Daedalus leaves dock in three weeks.”

~*~

Rodney watched with some trepidation while Carson swabbed Sheppard’s thigh with Betadine solution. “I’ve given you a local, lad. You’ll not feel the insertion of the tracking unit but you’ll no doubt feel some achiness while it heals into place.” Skillfully he slipped it into the pocket he’d cut in the muscle. He turned to his surgical nurse to scan the area to ensure the unit was operating properly. “See, Rodney. Here is your ID code. The unit is working perfectly.”

John shifted under the scrutiny of the two men hovering over him. He could take them both…he had no doubts…but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could overpower every soldier they had posted between him and the exit. He shifted again, forcing his muscles to relax under the doctors hands. He could feel the stitches pulling his flesh together; feel the foreign metal tagging him forever more as a Sentinel. Marking him as little more than a slave.

A small adhesive bandage was smoothed over the stitches and Carson patted him awkwardly on his thigh. “All done then, Detective. Tell one of the nurses if the wound becomes inflamed or the irritation of the unit itself becomes too distracting for you. It may take some time for your senses to adapt to it.” With another pat the doctor smoothed the blankets back over Sheppard’s lap and left him to Rodney’s mercies.

“Now what?” he managed.

“Now? Now you give yourself time to heal. Carson tells me you’ll be here in the infirmary for most of the next week. Then you’ll be on bed rest so we’ll have to get you assigned quarters. For now? Let’s see about getting you a meal. You must be starving.” Rodney gestured at John’s IV pole with its dangling bags of mystery. “Not that you’ll be allowed anything actually worth eating.”

“General O’Neill told me you were claiming me. I guess the chip in my thigh proves that’s true. I’m not gonna sleep with you…let’s just get that out there now.” Not that he’d have a choice. Once the bonding process began, lore was that it was in the control of the Guide.

Rodney turned back to face Sheppard. He disliked the aspects of the Guide/Sentinel relationship that smacked of dubious consent. Keeping his face impassive, he said, “I’m not promising I won’t eventually want you in my bed, Sheppard. I’m not going to lie to you to make you feel better. If it’s in the best interest of the Atlantis mission and for Earth for us to have that kind of relationship then we will. But we’re not there at this time, so I don’t expect you to have sex with me right now. That? Is going to have to be enough.”

Rodney showed John the controller in his hand. The controller for the unit now lodged in his thigh. “This is going to ping your senses, causing them to spike. Once they’re peaking I’m going to initiate bonding. It’s very possible at that time we will have sex, as I’m told the bonding experience is heady. I wouldn’t know firsthand. If we do, it will not be because I wished to have you naked and at my mercy. It will be because our biology makes it impossible for us not to. Because of that unknown, I’m not initiating the bonding experience until we’re safely home on Atlantis.” He watched as Sheppard’s shoulders lowered, a signal that he hadn’t been as calm as Rodney had assumed. “We won’t be ready to leave Earth for three weeks and then we have a trip of three more weeks on the Daedalus. Your virtue is safe for that long at least.” Rodney gestured towards the exit. “If you’re done acting like my maiden Aunt Martha, Sheppard? Let me get us something to eat before I slip into a hypoglycemic coma and die.”

~*~

“Detective Sheppard, I am pleased you will be joining our expedition. I did not have an opportunity to introduce myself before, I am Dr. Radek Zelenka.”

John looked at the hand being offered. He’d been warned early in life not to shake hands with unbonded Guides.  
Radek looked confused for a moment and then Sheppard could see comprehension dawning on his expressive face. “Ah. I am not here to take you away from Rodney’s dubious care. I am unable to bond with you, Detective. Fear not. Rodney’s chip? It protects you from the advances of the other Guides who may have designs on making you theirs.” He thrust out his hand again, waiting for John to take it.

With some visible reluctance, he did so. “John Sheppard.”

“May I call you John?” At the other’s nod, Radek beamed a smile. “You may, of course, call me Radek should you wish. We will be working together much in the weeks to come, yes? It is good that we can get to know one another before Rodney begins shouting at us to do more and faster.” Another smile. “He means well, but is sometimes hard to take.” Yeah, John had already figured that one out for himself.

“I’ve taken the liberty of loading this laptop with information that you may find useful, Detective…John. It has mission files from our survey teams, an overview of the Wraith threat, an explanation of the ATA gene and it’s uses with the technologies we’re finding in Pegasus, plus some things that will be amusing for you convalescence.” Radek placed the laptop on the bedside table and stood to go. “There is also a folder that explains in detail how the chip in your thigh functions. Some would prefer that you do not have that information but Rodney is not one of them. He is a good man. Your situation? Is not good. I understand. But he will do the best he can for you. For us all.” Radek leaned over and patted John on the shoulder in farewell.

“Get well, John. We need you.”

John watched, bemused, as Radek left. Rodney wanted him to have the information on his chip? He looked over at the laptop. It was more effort than he wanted to expend to pick it up. Later, he thought. He let his eyes slide shut and the sounds of the infirmary faded away.

~*~

John shifted unhappily in the wheelchair, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. Rodney was watching, hands flailing helplessly while the nurses settled him in the chair. Finally, when John was as secure as he was likely to be, Rodney stepped forward to tuck a blanket over Sheppard’s lap.

“Don’t keep him up too long, Rodney. He’ll tire quickly for some time to come.” Carson frowned at Rodney. “I don’t know why you feel it necessary to show him around now…he’ll be released in a day or so and that would be a more appropriate time.”

“Stop hovering, Carson,” Rodney huffed. “I’m not going to let him run a marathon. He’s going to be sitting down the whole time. I want to take him to the lab.” Carson’s glare made his enthusiasm wilt a little. "Just for 30 minutes or so,” he added hastily.

“See that you return him in half an hour, then.” Carson patted John’s shoulder gently. “Stay sitting down, John. Don’t strain yourself in any way, do you hear me?”

John found the scrutiny of the scientists in the crowded lab uncomfortable. They seemed to be holding their breath. “McKay. What am I doing here, exactly?”

Rodney handed him a glass paperweight-like object roughly the size of a softball. It was warm to the touch when logic said it should be cool. John ran his thumb over the swirls of green in the blue surface. “What’s this?”

“Just ask it what it wants, Detective. Ask it what it does.”

“Ask,” Sheppard stated. “It’s a paperweight, McKay. I don’t think it’s sentient.”

Rodney snorted. “You might be surprised. Just…close your eyes and think about where you are in the universe." The combined gasp of the scientists crowded around him had Sheppard’s eyes snapping open. He stared in wonderment at the projection swirling above and around the huddled group.

“It’s a map,” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “A map of the solar system. How’d I do that?” He shifted his focus to Dr. Zelenka. “This is because of that gene thing, right?”

“Ano, John. It is the ATA gene. You have a very strong expression of it…very much like the Ancients themselves.” He smiled at the befuddled detective. “You are likely to be very popular with the scientists on Atlantis, John. We have struggled to make headway in our understanding of the technology used by the Ancients.” He gestured at the holographic display that John was absently flipping in orientation, “but I do not think we will struggle so much now.”

~*~

Rodney glared at Carson while the doctor smoothed the blankets over Sheppard’s lap. “I didn’t ‘overtax’ him, Carson. He was sitting down the whole time.”

“Use of Ancient technology requires a mental component, Rodney. You are more aware of this than most. It was too much of a strain for his first day out of bed! I warned you to go easy, man. Now he’s exhausted. You could put his recovery back, you know. You could make it impossible for me to release him to the doctor onboard the Daedalus and then where will you be?” Seeing the horror reflected on his friends face made him soften some. “He’s been through trauma, Rodney. He needs quiet and calm to recover. It’s your duty as his Guide to see that he gets it.” Carson gently pushed Rodney towards the door. “Leave the lad be, now. I’ve given him some sedation and he’ll most likely sleep through the night.”

“I’ll just say goodnight, then.” Rodney gestured towards the curtained area where John was hidden from view. “Unless that violates your voodoo practices, Carson. The hell!”

Carson huffed, exasperated. “Fine then. Say your goodnights, Rodney. Then let the man sleep.”

Rodney drew back the curtain, peeking around to see if John was awake. “Hey!” John twirled a hand around his head. “You’re all…glowy.” Another swirl, which Rodney interpreted as indicating his ‘glowyness’.

“Good drugs?” he asked.

John nodded with absolute sincerity. “The _best_!”

“That’s great. You earned them.” Rodney shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry I tired you out. I should have been paying more attention to you. It’s my duty as your Guide to protect you and I let you down. I want you to know, it won’t happen again. Bonded or not, you’re going to come first.”

Rodney looked up to see how Sheppard processed his declaration only to find that he’d nodded off. Rodney looked around, ensuring that no one was in the immediate area. He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to John’s cheek.

“Sleep well, my Sentinel. Sleep well.”

~*~

The barracks assigned to John was probably larger than a closet. Maybe. The two racks were stacked and bolted to the concrete wall, leaving just enough floor space for a small dresser, desk and chair. John looked around from the door way. It would take all the willpower he had left to spend any time at all in the tiny space. He’d been released from Beckett’s clutches on the condition that he go straight to his quarters and sleep. He shuddered at the thought of closing the door with him on the inside.

“It’s not much, I’ll grant you.”

John jerked at the unexpected voice behind him. “General O’Neill. You surprised me.”

“Yeah,” the general smiled. “I kinda get a kick out of doing that.” He gestured towards the room behind Sheppard. “We’re running short on space right now. What with the whole Wraith invasion issue and all we’ve beefed up readiness. Still, you get your own room. Go you! Most of the new personnel are in rooms this size with a roommate.” O’Neill tilted his head as if pondering the bland walls in the hallway. “Of course, I thought _you_ might be sharing a room with someone, too. Care to tell me why you’re not?”

“I think that’s between Dr. McKay and me, General. You can take it to him if you don’t want to accept that.” He forced himself to enter the small room. He focused on his breathing for a moment, centering himself as much as he was able. His senses were starting to spike. He’d kept them under ruthless control his entire life but with so many things coming at him at once his controls were slipping. He was going to have to speak to Rodney about it if he couldn’t get himself into check.

“Better?” John jumped a second time. He’d forgotten O’Neill was behind him. That alone showed the depth of his problem with his senses. The general snickered at John’s dismay, straightening from where he’d been leaning against the door frame. “You’ve got a Guide, Sheppard. He can help you center yourself, you know. It doesn’t require a bond. Don’t let your senses spike and send you into a zone out.”

“With all due respect, General, I don’t think you’ve got any idea of what Dr. McKay would ‘require’ of me if I requested his assistance.” He glared at the man still smirking at him. “Just how willing were _you_ to have a chip implanted and hand your freedom over to a stranger?”

O’Neill’s rueful shrug was as much of an apology as he was likely to get. “Since we’re having this conversation, care to tell me why Colonel Pherson is so hot to lock you up? This isn’t just your black mark. He got you thrown out for that. This is personal.” When it was clear that Sheppard didn’t intend to answer he continued, “Personal leads to trouble, Sheppard. You know that. I need to know and you need to tell me.”

John sighed. The general was right, he did need to know. This was going to get ugly and others would get caught in the undertow. They needed to know why. “Colonel Pherson ran a recon unit that raided the base I was stationed at for reinforcements. I got a TDA to fly men in and out for one of their ops. We were compromised. None of the others made it out. Pherson claimed I must have been the leak since I came back and the others didn’t. I took exception to that. That’s the gist, sir.”

“And by ‘exception’ you mean you socked him in the nose?”

“That’s not on record, sir. So officially I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The general came fully into the room, allowing the door to shut behind him. “I’ll be joining the delegation that’s returning to Atlantis. The IOA has a big powwow planned with one of the Coalition’s trading partners. They aren’t thrilled with your inclusion, as you may have figured out. I’m supposed to keep you in line.” Jack laughed. “Not that I think that’s possible.” He looked John over. “The SGC is pushing to have you reinstated in the military. Yet another way of keeping you contained. Rumor is you’ll be pulled back in before leaving the mountain.”

Jack sighed and sat down in the only available chair, forcing Sheppard to sit on the bed. “Look, Sheppard. Atlantis is Pherson’s command. He’s pushing hard to keep you out, not that he’s got a chance of that. I can hold him off long enough to get your situation there settled…as long as you don’t take _years_ to decide what you want. But the fact is, Atlantis is a small command. You’re going to see each other on a daily basis. You don’t have the liberty of ignoring each other. Especially if you end up in the Air Force again.”

“I don’t suppose _I_ have any say in my career assignment?” John didn’t bother hiding his bitterness.

“No. No, you don’t. And you probably never will again.” Jack rubbed his hand over his face. “Look, you feel screwed, I get that. It could be worse.” At Sheppard’s derisive snort Jack continued. “It could be much worse. You’re going to get your rank back, your back pay and an apology from the Defense Secretary. That doesn’t happen for the run of the mill Sentinel, Sheppard. The SGC is made up of good people. I’m a general, for Christ’s sake! Do you think Sentinels make the rank of general on the outside? Suck it up. Make an effort to get along with Pherson. He’s pissed at you but he’s a good commander and he’ll get over it.”

Jack stood and crossed to the door. Looking back at the exhausted man still sitting on the bed he sighed. “Seriously, Sheppard. Use your guide. You’re not going to be able to keep your levels in check on your own. As for the room? There’s a rec room on level twelve. Nice wide open space. Feel free to use it. And lie down before you fall down.” The general left John alone after another thoughtful once over.

“Fuck.”

~*~

The voyage to Atlantis had taken eighteen days. The billet he’d been assigned on the _Daedalus_ had made his room at the SGC seem huge. True to his word, O’Neill had overseen John’s reinstatement of rank of Major in the USAF. He was given a new set of dogtags and a pile of BDU’s with the Atlantis patch on the sleeve. Standing in his tiny quarters, arms loaded down with his new supplies, John had forced himself to calm down; to breathe slowly in and out until the panic faded into the background.

John had struggled to stay in the room once lights out had been called that first night. It was impossible to sleep…impossible to stop pacing the three steps he had clearance for. Eighteen nights of that had been impossible to contemplate. So, after the first one John had taken a pillow and blanket and found a rec room like he’d used at the SGC and made it his base camp for the rest of the trip. Rodney had managed not to laugh at him when he’d found him but he’d taken to calling Sheppard’s corner his ‘fortress of solitude’ whenever he could work it into conversation.

He’d found a lot of opportunities for that.

Going from the tight quarters on the _Daedalus_ to yet another infirmary had Sheppard’s nerves near the breaking point. His skin prickled and his eyes burned. The proximity of his Guide helped…and how he hated that…but his senses were getting harder to control. He longed for some space; some privacy to pull himself back together. With a sigh, he exited the transporter and stopped outside what were to be his quarters here on Atlantis.

Keying the lock by swiping his hand over it, Rodney gestured at him to enter the room beyond. “You will be able to control your door with your mind, you know. Just like all Ancient tech. It should respond to you and pretty much do whatever you want it to do.”

“Like lock you out?”

Rodney snorted in genuine amusement. “No such luck, Major. I’m your Guide. Where you go, I go.”

John stopped just inside the door. He looked around the room, mouth agape. His skateboard leaned against the far wall, his beloved autographed poster of Johnny Cash stared down over the narrow bed.

“You can go in, you know,” Rodney pressed gently on his back. “Carson will hurt me if you don’t settle in before he shows up to check on you.” He scrutinized Sheppard’s expression. “Thankfully, the Ancients were free with floor space. Nice big windows, too. There’s a balcony through those doors.” He gestured towards the far side of the room. “You’ll get a nice breeze in the evenings.” Rodney turned to look out over the beautiful twilight beyond the glass. “This is the most heavily shielded section of the city, by the way. I picked it so you’d be safe if the Wraith decide to come back and start shooting. You’ll thank me later.”

“As you can see, we moved your things in while you were in the infirmary. Once you’re feeling better you can set things up as you like.” He moved across the room towards the doorway. "This door leads to your closet and the bathroom. Just a shower. The ancients were surprisingly stingy with bathtubs."

John crossed to the bed and gingerly sank down on the edge. “I’m more of a shower guy, anyway.”

Rodney snorted, “Just as well.” He looked at the man sitting across from him. He looked grey with exhaustion. Not a good sign. “Get some rest, Sheppard. Carson will be by in a few minutes but the door will let him in as long as you’re under his care. I’ll be by later with some food. It could be a while. The Coalition requested Atlantis host the trading delegation from one of the more powerful worlds here in Pegasus. Apparently they’ve got access to intel we can use so we’re playing nice.” Rodney harrumphed. He hated playing dress-up. “Be happy you’re still under Carson’s care and get to skip the whole thing.”

John grunted. He was glad to be skipping it. Hopefully he’d be able to skip all such meetings in the future. Finally having enough space to breath was _awesome_. Lying back across the narrow bed felt incredibly good. He’d pull his feet up and have a little nap.

Before Rodney palmed the door control to leave he'd already started to snore.

~*~

John shifted over onto his back, slowly waking and taking stock of his surroundings. Atlantis. He was on the fabled city of Atlantis. A city that _flew_. A city that spoke to him in a language that he couldn’t identify but found he understood perfectly.

The prickling under his skin that had started in earnest when he’d woken up in the hospital in Nevada was a burning itch now, demanding to be scratched. This was the urge to bond. He’d read about it, understood it on an intellectual basis, but living with it was becoming intolerable.

He was going to have to do something. Soon. The idea of just handing his life over to Rodney was still more than he was ready to face. He’d seen bonded Sentinels in the throes of mindless lust for their Guides. He’d seen those Guides using that hunger to forge agreements not in their Sentinels best interests. While he didn’t believe Rodney was a bad person…Zelenka for one had assured him of his decency…he didn’t feel comfortable letting go of his free will. Even though he knew he’d soon have no choice. His biology was already making the need to bond a priority. Rodney controlled his chip. Simple math, then. One plus one makes John Sheppard Rodney’s radio-controlled Sentinel. Already John’s senses were linked to Rodney’s. He could concentrate from any point on Atlantis and hear what Rodney was saying…something that he found himself impelled to do more and more frequently each day.

Sighing, John gave into the inevitable and let his hearing center on the sound of his Guide’s voice. Sitting up suddenly, John triggered the radio in his ear. Careful to make no sound, he listened to the chatter on the radio. The trading delegation that had come through the gate wasn’t as peaceful as they’d expected. Armed with projectile weapons, they’d already taken control of the gateroom.

John needed a plan.

~*~

Woolsey, O’Neill and Pherson stood on the gallery, watching the delegation from Rengia come through the wormhole. Down on the embarkation floor, representatives from a dozen trading worlds circulated and laughed together. The welcoming committee from the coalition stood just to the side of the Atlantis contingent, adjusting their ceremonial finery as they waited. Woolsey looked over at Ambassador Shira with some confusion. Her anger at the Atlantis expedition was well known…she’d been a member of the tribunal that put SGA-1 on trial for their supposed crimes against Pegasus…but she was here, supposedly welcoming trading partners to join them. He shared a glance with O’Neill, somewhat relieved to see the general was as wary as he was.

The ambassador for the Renginian party stepped through the wormhole and paused just beyond the open aperture behind him. Ambassador Cylus looked up at the welcoming delegation on the open deck above the embarkation floor and smiled.

“Something’s off.” O’Neill said. “My creep-o-meter is pinging.” Before anyone had time to comment a group of heavily armed soldiers pressed through the wormhole.

“Shut it down!” O’Neill shouted. The gate winked out a second later but the damage was done.

Cylus pointed at O’Neill. “That one.” He turned, pointing out several more members of the welcoming committee, “those as well.” The soldiers moved quickly to separate those individuals from the group. With a sinking feeling, Rodney realized all of the gene carriers were being herded together.

“What is the meaning of this?” Woolsey called down. “What do you hope to accomplish by this?”

“We hope to take your city from you, Richard.” Cylus smiled. “These are the people who can control it. Soon, they will be controlled by us.” He gestured towards O’Neill and Sergeant Stackhouse. “Those two must be put in the cell on the lower level; you know the one. There will be more joining them soon.”

O’Neill struggled briefly against the guards that came to take him to the cell. Turning to Shira he asked, “What’s in this for you? You know your people are going to come down on you for this.”

She smiled a bitter smile. “You will now finally pay for the loss of my family. Each of you will pay.” She turned away her back to him as he was pulled down the steps and away.

“Surely you know this can only end badly for you. For your people.” Richard shook his head. “You will not get what you want out of this situation, Shira. And you’ve condemned your people by betraying your trading partners this way.”

“As long as you die, Richard. As long as you and Doctor McKay die I do not care about the rest.”

~*~

John concentrated on the leader of the Renginians, honing his hearing to pick up what he was saying. He seemed unspooling, barking out orders and commands that contradicted the one before. More people were going to be hurt if he wasn’t stopped. John had to _do_ something but as soon as he left the shielded area his chip would give away his location to the Renginian guards.

His chip. Rodney had given him detailed specs on it…what had they been? John closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the battle around him die away. He slowed his breathing, concentrating on the words on the laptop he opened in his mind. Slowly, slowly, the words began to appear. He stretched his hand out, finger on the mental screen, to scroll through the pages until he found what he needed.

There.

Yes. That would do it. Now all he needed to do was get to the storage room near the armory before the enemies within Atlantis got to him.

Peering out into the hallway John checked right then left to ensure no one was in his immediate vicinity. Reassured, he stepped out, letting the door close behind him. He made it as far as the transporter before encountering one of the Renginian invaders.

“You will come with me, Atantean. You will not resist or I will shoot.” John judged the distance between himself, the transporter and the lone guard. Decision made, John jumped towards the transporter, thinking it ‘open’ as he flew through the air. The guard managed to get a shot off in the millisecond he had to react. John grudgingly gave him kudos for that even as the burn of the bullets path across his arm made him curse. Thankfully the transporter doors closed before the guard could take better aim with a second shot. John slid to the floor. He’d just take a minute to catch his breath.

Pulling himself to his feet he fought down the dizziness that threatened to put him back down. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Better. Putting all his will into the task ahead, John stepped into the unshielded corridor and started to run. Skidding to a stop outside the storage room, John was startled when the adjoining door to the armory flung open and a P90 was unceremoniously shoved in his face.

“Sheppard.” The weapon was lowered. Colonel Pherson peered at the disheveled man standing in front of him. “How did you get away? They’re herding all the gene carriers to the mess.”

“I was in the shielded part of the city. I need some supplies from this storage room. Then I need a weapon. Then I’m going to kill them all and release our people.”

Pherson eyed Sheppard warily for several long seconds. Finally deciding, he reached into his pocket and pulled a set of keys out, handing them to Sheppard. “Get what you need. I’ll pull some weapons and ammo and meet you there.” John stepped past the Colonel and into the storage room, shutting the door behind him. Reviewing his mental list, he set out to find the things he needed. Completely absorbed in pulling items, he snapped to attention at the sound of a P-90’s safety disengaging. John cursed his distraction that had kept him from hearing the door opening behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Pherson stood, mouth open in shock. Loaded down with weapons, he started to shed them before approaching Sheppard.

“Disabling my chip. Why? What’s it look like?” John deftly wrapped copper wire around the thin iron pipe he’d found in his search of the storage room. He picked up the disposable camera he’d taken from his room and began tearing it’s housing apart.

Pherson eyed Sheppard with reluctant curiosity. “What’s with the camera?”

“I’m taking the capacitor from the flash unit.” Suiting action to words, Sheppard extracted the tiny device, wrapping the leads in the ends of his makeshift copper coil. He looked up at Pherson, “if you’ve got any electronics you don’t want fried you should set them outside the door.”

Pherson pulled his earwig out and pulled off his watch. Setting them, along with Sheppard’s, in the empty hallway, he closed the door. “Don’t think I won’t remember that you need a new one, Sheppard. Just as soon as the base is safe.” The Colonel seemed to reach a decision. Handing the thigh holster for a 9mm to Sheppard he asked, “So, now what?”

John deftly strapped on the holster, checked the weapon he was then handed and buckled it in place. “Now I trigger the capacitor and it sends a low-level EM pulse that should, theoretically, cancel out my chip. No chip, no tracking, more killing the bad guys.”

Pherson stared. “How did you learn how to disable your chip?”

John sighed. “Doctor McKay gave me the specs.” He smiled at Pherson’s horrified look. “Ready?” Not allowing time for comment, John triggered the capacitor, jumping when it sparked. “Well. Let’s hope that worked. I don’t have time to look for a reader.” He stood and took the P90 Pherson held out for him. “Okay, then.” He gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

~*~

Two levels…and ten enemies down…John stopped to ‘check in’ with Rodney. He could concentrate enough to hear the beating of his heart. Good. Still there. John jerked his head towards the stairs. Time to get moving.

“You’re not going to make it as far as the gateroom at this pace, Sheppard.” Pherson eyed the man next to him. “You look about a step away from dead.”

“You say the sweetest things, sir.” John sighed. He was exhausted. Pherson wasn’t off by much…he wasn’t going to make it to the gateroom if he had to climb the whole way there. They needed a new plan.

“Let’s skip the stairs, shall we? We can come take the transporters to the gateship bay. One set of stairs above the gate.”

John chewed his lip while he thought the idea over, looking for flaws. “Sounds good, sir. Lead the way.”

~*~

Immediately after exiting the transporter, John closed his eyes, pinning the people on the level below him in place. Most of the friendlies seemed to be pressed up against the Stargate. Security against the use of it as a weapon, he supposed. He figured they were safe as long as the shield was in place. Cylus, his bodyguards and the traitor who led them through the Stargate, were all near the bottom of the stairs.

Perfect.

John shot a smile to Pherson, standing just behind him. “Stay down.” Rounding the corner of the stairwell, John raised his P90 and began firing in sharp, short bursts. In less than 30 seconds the hostage situation was over. John walked down the steps, picking his way over the bodies of those sprawled over them, and came to a stop in front of Rodney.

“This enough of an entrance for you, McKay?”

“It’ll do. There are at least ten more. They started gathering the others into the mess.”

John shared a smirk with Pherson. “Yeah, we know.” Pherson stepped up and saluted General O’Neill. “There are ten unfriendlies dead on levels ten and eleven. There are probably more watching our people but we can take care of them.” Turning to the Marines that were pouring into the gateroom, he gestured at Sheppard. “Get Major Sheppard to the infirmary. He’s been injured.”

John scowled at the colonel when two SFs stepped forward to escort him away. “I’m fine.” He turned the scowl to Rodney when he reached for him, looking for his injuries and managing to find them all in the most painful and awkward ways possible. “I’m _fine_ ,” he insisted, knowing it was hopeless.

“Sheppard, report to the infirmary.” General O’Neill ordered. “You’re getting blood all over the floor.” He turned to the man sitting at the communications desk. “Find Dr. Beckett and inform him that Major Sheppard is on his way to the infirmary.” He eyed Dr. McKay warily. “I suppose you’re going to go with him, Doctor?”

Rodney didn’t bother to dignify that with a response.

~*~

Rodney watched John sleep. In the infirmary again. He sighed. Being Sheppard’s Guide was causing a major acid reflux problem for him. Pulling his laptop over, he contemplated the way his Sentinel had handled the emergency. Unbonded, barely acknowledging the budding bond they shared, John had laid a swath through the invaders. He was impressive. Rodney was eager to get John into the weapons chair and see what Atlantis made of him.

The sound of a throat clearing brought Rodney’s eyes up from his laptop. “Colonel Pherson. What brings you down here?”

“Sheppard. He disabled his chip so he could move through the city undetected. You’ll need to have a new one inserted before he leaves the infirmary.” The colonel shifted, looking past Rodney. “He said you gave him the info on how to do that. Now, I figure he was just yanking my chain, since we have…issues. Since if you _had_ told him how to circumvent his mandatory tracking device that would be a violation of Federal law.”

“Colonel, let me be clear. I did indeed give John all the details of his implant. Did I give him permission to disable it? No. I was in the gateroom with General O’Neill at that point. Am I upset that he figured it out in time to save all of our asses? Again, no. John made no secret of his tampering with the control chip, Colonel. You, as his superior officer made no move to stop him from that tampering. So let’s stop trying to see who has the bigger dick and be glad he was able to stop the Renginians before things got uglier than they already were. He’s a hero, Colonel. A hero that kept a bad situation from becoming a fatal one for all of us.” Rodney looked carefully at the man standing so uncomfortably at the foot of John’s bed. “As to putting in a new one? I can assure you we will adhere to all applicable laws.”

Colonel Pherson stared for a moment more before nodding, and turning to go. At the door he turned back and addressed Rodney again. “He was a force out there today, McKay. If he can adjust to bonding? He’ll be pretty damn unstoppable.” Another nod and he was gone.

Rodney looked back at Sheppard, still deeply asleep. “You’re already unstoppable, John. You’re amazing.” Turning back to the research on his laptop he began to read.

~*~

“Do you trust me, John?” Rodney slipped the button he’d been fondling on Sheppard’s shirt through its hole and slid his fingers in to stroke the skin revealed.

“I want to…I feel like I do. I don’t know if it’s the chip…”

“It’s not the chip. I can promise you that.” Rodney held up the controller, showing John the red light at the top. “It’s not reading your chip, John. When Carson installed your new one I gave him one with some much-needed updates. This one? Will ping as a normal chip to all the readers the brass may wave at you but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Rodney slipped another button open and slid is palm in to rub against John’s nipple

John gasped. His skin felt like it was on fire.

Rodney leaned in to whisper in John’s ear. “The chip is inert. It can’t make you obey me or anyone else. You’re responding to a natural bonding, John. Your mind, your body, want to bond with me as much as I want to bond with you.”

John shivered. “No coercion? This is real?” God, he wanted to believe that. He moaned when yet another button was released and Rodney bent to run his tongue over his chest. “Oh, God. Rodney!”

“Concentrate on my voice, John.” Rodney ran his fingers down Sheppard’s bare back. “Just let go. I’m here. You’re not alone…you’ll never be alone again, I promise. This will be so good, John. So good. Let go and let me show you how good it can be.”

Waiting the weeks for John to recover, for the brass to decide he had done what he needed to do and no punishments would be forthcoming, had been torture for them both. The bond, so long put off, was insisting that they join. Any hope of a platonic bond was gone as soon as Rodney had touched John on his bare arm once they were finally alone in Rodney’s quarters. Rodney pushed the opened shirt off John’s shoulders, kissing over the exposed collarbones. “You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful. You taste amazing…I want to taste all of you.” He pressed his lips against the pulse in John’s throat, tasting sweat and the unique maleness that was John. “You’re mine, Sheppard. My Sentinel and I am your Guide. I need to pleasure you…need to give you everything I am. Let me, John. Please, please, please, let me.”

“Rodney,” John writhed under his hand. He couldn’t stand it. Surrendering to his need, John let Rodney push into his thoughts. “God, Rodney. I see your thoughts!” He pressed his aching erection against Rodney’s thigh. “I’m ready. Show me how, Rodney. Show me.”

“John, my John.” Rodney eased John down onto the bed they would share. Rodney worshipped him with his hands, drawing his them down over his bare chest, around the taut belly, bending to lave the shallow navel. “Let me get your boots off.” He fumbled with the laces, “Why do military men feel the need to wear clothes you can’t get out of in a hurry?” Finally dumping the heavy boots onto the floor Rodney reached for the placket of John’s fly. Pressing down against the swelling there he smiled at the groan it brought out. He eased the opened pants down John’s thighs, following each inch of skin with his lips. “Mmmm, commando. I approve.”

John huffed a laugh. “God, Rodney. Don’t tease.”

“No, not teasing. So beautiful, I can’t believe you’re mine.” Rodney leaned up and over the trembling man below him, taking the tender skin of his neck between his teeth he bit down.

“Ahh, oh, God. Rodney!” John lurched up, pressing his naked body against Rodney’s. “Please.”

“Just let me get my clothes off, John. Just hang on one second more.” Rodney scrambled back and tugged his shirt over his head. Unable to resist, he leaned down to lick the pre-come from John’s straining cock. Fumbling for his own zipper, he finally had to climb off the bed to rid himself of the last of his clothes. Laying down next to John was a sensory overload. He was all firm skin and muscle. Fit, lean and very flexible. The thought of what they would enjoy together was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He gripped his erection ruthlessly to get himself back under control.

“I’m not going to last, John. I’ve waited so long…I’m going to come as soon as you touch me.”

John’s eyes were tightly squeezed shut. He snorted out a laugh, “Yeah. Me, too.” He turned on his side and reached out to run his fingers over the curve of Rodney’s cock. “We’ll make up for it in the next round.” Taking a firmer hold on Rodney, he gathered both their cocks together in his fist. “I’m pretty sure we can manage at least one more tonight, don’t you?” He pulled his fist back and slid it down to the roots. He pulled his hand away, smiling at Rodney’s distressed sounds. “Let me get…” he reached over to the side table and snagged the lube. “There. This is going to be much better, you’ll see.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you. How are you so in control when I feel like I’m going to fly out of my skin?”

“You disabled my chip, remember? I’m your Sentinel. I need to take care of _you_.” Taking hold of their cocks with his slick hand was perfection. “Mmm. So much better. You gonna come on me, Rodney? You gonna make me come with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh my God, John. Just like that. Twist…” Rodney shoved once, twice into John’s fist and came, hot and sticky, on his fist. One more tug and John followed him over the edge, spilling long streams of come over their bellies.

“God, that was hot.” Rodney shifted around to find a comfortable position not involving a wet spot. “John?” He raised himself up on his elbow and smiled down at his Sentinel. “You look really sweet when you’re asleep, you know that?” He pressed a kiss to John’s temple and settled in beside him. A nap would hit the spot. They had all night. Hell, they had a lifetime. Sighing, he spooned closer to John and let himself drift.

~*~

John eyed the chair warily, circling around it to view it from all sides. “What exactly is it supposed to do?” It looked like a throne from a bad sci-fi movie, silver and ornate and horribly uncomfortable looking.

“Is weapons chair,” Radek said. John noted that Radek’s accent became thicker and harder to understand the more excited he got. “At least we think so. You see, no one before you has had a strong enough expression of the Ancient gene to make it work. We hypothesize that it can control more than just weapons, but until you sit? We cannot be sure.” Radek gestured for John to stop stalling and sit down.

“Not so fast. I thought General O’Neill had this gene thingy, and Dr. Beckett. Why couldn’t they get it fired up?” He reached out and timidly touched a finger to the gel interface on the arm. Startled by the surge of _something_ flowing through it he yanked his hand back.

“It’s true that there are others that have the gene, John.” Rodney watched as John examined his fingertip, “but except for General O’Neill, no one comes close to your affinity with Ancient tech. The General hasn’t been in the chair since we received the ZPM’s from Earth so there’s no way of knowing if he would be able to ‘fire it up’, as you say.” He cocked his head, willing John to look at him. “You know it’s perfectly safe, right? We wouldn’t have you trying it out if it were a danger to you.”

“I’m not worried about me, McKay. I’m worried about setting off some super-ancienty weapon and blowing up the _Daedalus_.”

“Ah, yes. A reasonable concern.” Radek shoved his glasses to seat them more firmly on his nose. “But uncalled for. Ancient technology will ‘talk’ to you, John. It will _ask_ you what you wish to do…it will not act without your input.” He turned to the laptops they had sistered into the guts of the chair. “Please. Just sit. Let us see what we can learn.”

John sat down, easing his hands onto the gel pads. The chair responded by smoothly reclining, raising John’s feet and beginning a gentle spin. “Okay. Now what?”

“Remember your first day in the labs at the SGC? Just think of what you want to know. Ask it what it can do for you.”

John leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes, brow creased in concentration. Instantly, display after display began to light up around the small room, information tumbling across the laptop screens faster than the science team could read it. “Oh, God. Rodney. She’s talking to me…she’s…”

“What is she saying, John? What are you asking?” Rodney never regretted Beckett’s slow pace with his artificial gene therapy more than at that moment. His artificial gene was nowhere near powerful enough to ‘hear’ what transpired between the city and Sheppard.

“Rodney! I know how to stop the Wraith.”


End file.
